Challenge: 28 Sunstreakers!
by Sunstreaker Lambo Twin
Summary: Written for the 28 meme challenge found in LJ! Sunstreaker-centric! Mature-fic, will contain sticky slash, twincest and a lot of dark things :3 IDW based, so if you haven't read that, you're most likely not going to understand slag. :D Enjoy!
1. Angsty

Angsty

_"Hate me. Hate me like I hate you."_

Static. Pain. Cold. His sensors were all feeding him information he could not process. He didn't know how long he'd been laying there, or _where_ he was exactly. He tried to make some sense of the thoughts crossing his processor, but it was too difficult. They were scrambled, messy. There was this one file, one thought nagging at the back of his head, though, that was making it hard for him to focus on the rest of them. He tried to reach for it, but as soon as he did, _it_ recoiled back away from him, leaving him feeling empty. Feeling numb.

He found enough strength to power up one of his optics –the only one that still functioned-, and struggled to focus it on what was before him. There were shapes. Purple. Black. Silver. Orange. He couldn't quite pinpoint what it was that he was seeing. He only saw the shapes and colors.

And static. His optic was obviously glitching.

There it was again, that thought nagging at him. He tried to reach for it again, and when he did he felt as if he was falling into something cold, sticky, and he couldn't figure out which was the way up and which one the way down. He feared he would be trapped in that horrible nightmare of a place unless he hurried up and found his way out of there. Just a little more… just… a little…

There! He had it. He _had it._ But he was trapped. He was trapped in that dark, cold place. There was nothing. It was just him and that _thought_, that thing that had condemned him to that torture. He knew he would only remember, he would only understand _why_ he was there if he opened that file, if he relived that memory… but he was afraid. He didn't know what it was, but he knew it was something awful, something so terrible that would make it impossible for him to get out of that place. That would make him realize he _deserved_ to be stuck there.

He needed to know.

He opened it.

_"Talk? Is that what we need? Because I think what we need is you to stop following me around!"_

_-czzzzth—_

It was broken. The file was broken. There were only parts of it that were safe enough to be retrieved.

_"…what they did to you-I can't imagine what it was like… taking you apart, bonding you with that human. None of us could ever imagine what you had to go through but-it changed you."_

"_NO! You don't get to do this! This has nothing to do with any of this! This has nothing to do with now! I told you-I told all of you- I never wanted to talk about that again. I told you. What they did… don't ever bring this up again. Ever!"_

More static. He remembered that day now. He could remember some parts of it. He knew that crimson mech had attempted to talk to him, and he'd shut him out. Sideswipe. His spark supplied him that name, and his processor told him it was right. But, why was he shutting him out like that? Why was that mech trying to make him _talk_?

Even before he turned his attention back to the file he knew that conversation hadn't ended that day. He hadn't left him alone. He had followed him. He had sought him out again.

_"I told you to leave me alone!" _

_A black hand closed around his wrist, and he instinctively whirled around, slamming his fist hard on the other mech's face-plates. _

_The mech –Sideswipe- staggered backwards a few steps, releasing his wrist as if it burned. "The slag is wrong with you?! Why do you always do this?! I don't—for Primus' sake, I don't understand you! You don't have to do this alone, you don't—"_

_He was blinded by the rage, by the pain. He lunged forwards, throwing another punch to the red mech's face with a furious growl. The fist collided with Sideswipe's face, which made the mech hiss in pain, frame tense and bracing for a fight that never came. _

"_Hate me. Hate me like I hate you."_

_He didn't stay to see the effect his words had on the crimson mech after he spat that vile lie. He knew it was over then. He knew it right from the moment in which a horrible, numbing pain erupted in his spark. And when the pain vanished, he found himself to be alone within his spark._

_His mind, however, was another story._

The shapes and colors were now easily recognizable. He even wished he could be back to that dark nothing he had been caught in only a few breems ago. Breems? Cycles? Orns? He didn't know.

It didn't matter.

An antenna twitched somewhere to his left. A pincer clicked annoyingly against his plating to his right. He felt the vibrations travelling through what was left of his plating and realized that he couldn't even feel disgust anymore. Not even now, that he was buried among the remains of those… _bugs_. His optic was powering down, and he didn't even feel the need to stop it. What was the point? There was nothing to see. There was no one there to come looking for him. There had only ever been one mech to bother with him… and he wasn't there anymore. They weren't coming back. He didn't expect them to. He didn't want them to. Sometimes when things were broken, they were meant to stay that way. Like that bridge he had blown up in an attempt to give the others a chance to escape. Like the bugs scattered over and around him. Like his own body, the one he'd been so proud of once. They were broken.

Sunstreaker was broken. He was trapped. Trapped in that horrible place. Trapped in a prison of his own making.

And it was a prison that had no way out. No way out because he had convinced himself he didn't deserve one. His treason had brought them all here, and even though he did regret it, it was all for the wrong reasons. He didn't want them to come back looking for him. They were better off hating him.

Especially Sideswipe.

His brother… Primus. His brother had risked so many things for him. He had stood up for him even though all Sunstreaker had ever done was shut him out, bring him down. At least now he was free of the burden he was. And even though in any other occasion Sideswipe would have realized he was not dead, he wouldn't be able to this time. Not after that fight where they had blocked each other out from their sparks.

Sunstreaker was alone. Absolutely, entirely alone.


	2. Bored

Bored

Sunstreaker sighed for what seemed to be the twentieth time that minute, his face propped up on his hand, his elbow on the armrest of his chair. His gaze raked across the desolated landscape through the window, the shades of blue, grey and black all blending together, creating a masterpiece of utter devastation.

Having absolutely nothing to do gave the golden frontliner far too much time to think. He hated it. Ironhide wasn't always there to offer some sort of distraction; he was determined to wipe out the swarms of insecticons from their former home. He was doing a pretty good job at it, too. But doing that meant that each cycle Sunstreaker was left invariably alone. He couldn't join him in the killing of those creatures. Not while he was stuck in that stupid hover-chair.

He was thankful that Alpha Trion had taken the time to fix him. No, really, he was. He just wished the old mech had taken the time to fix his legs before taking off instead of leaving him in that hover-chair.

Well, not like he didn't deserve it. He had done things that warranted such a punishment. He deserved no better than that hover-chair to remind him of that every moment of the day. He wanted to be able to stand, to walk, to run, to _transform_. Primus, he'd never gone this long without transforming before, and he could almost _feel_ his transformation cog beginning to rust. It obviously wasn't, but fraggit, he could _feel_ it.

Time never seemed to pass whenever he was alone. It was still far too early for Ironhide to return. He had come to like the red mech, even though the fact that he didn't remember anything was slightly frustrating. He wished he could just forget about it all, too. He couldn't, though, so he was stuck remembering things he could not share with Ironhide, and therefore, with anyone else.

It wasn't like he _wanted_ to share too much with Ironhide, anyway, but he was the only other mech there with him. He had shared more with him than what he would have ever expected to, both physically and in words. They didn't have much of a choice when it came to partners on that planet, and, as much as Sunstreaker hadn't wanted at first, there were needs that had to be satisfied, if only to help the time pass them by.

There was far too much time to waste, and not enough things to do.

He sighed again, leaning back on his chair and looking up at the ceiling of the abandoned building they'd set their camp at. A shuffling noise pulled him out of his bored haze and he tilted his helm to the side, catching sight of a familiar shape happily trotting up to him. The shape stopped right before him and stared up at him through its four orange optics, doing its best attempt at a puppy-face it could possibly muster. His antennas even twitched at the sides of his helm, and Sunstreaker couldn't help but chuckle lightly. Leave it to him to try and cheer him up whenever he was feeling down or bored.

"C'mere, Bob."

He patted his thigh, the invitation eliciting a happy chirp from his pet who was there in the next second, his front legs coming up to rest over his master's lap. Bob pressed his face to Sunstreaker's golden plating, another happy sound coming from the insecticon when the frontliner's hand came to scratch his head fondly.

"Oh don't give me that look." Sunstreaker snorted when Bob tilted his helm to the side and peaked at him through one optic, as if making sure he was no longer bored or brooding. Bob knew his master's mood swings better than Sunstreaker himself, and his main goal in life was to make them go away. The little insecticon hated it when Sunstreaker was down. Bob merely chirped, wagging his rear much like a dog would do and rubbing his helm against Sunstreaker's chassis. The golden frontliner's lips twitched into a tiny smile and he shook his helm. "Fine, fine. Let's go outside." He finally sighed, reaching for Bob's leash and resisting the urge to laugh when the insecticon hopped off his lap, cheerfully trotting towards the door as his beloved master followed him closely behind.

Yeah, right now, Sunstreaker _was_ thankful. Bob loved him unconditionally, even though he was nothing more than an insecticon. He didn't judge him for the horrible things he'd done. He never gave him a chance to be alone.

Bob never gave him a chance to be bored.


	3. Naughty

Sideswipe's optics slowly flickered online after his third attempt to power them up. His systems rebelled at his commands; his processor felt slow and sluggish, and his servos were simply not responding. Onlining his optics didn't do him much good, either. All he could see were the dark grey blankets of his berth.

He tried moving his servos again, only to realize his wrists were bound at his back. That send a nervous little thrill down his back-struts. Why was he restrained, if he was in his room? Why did he feel so heavy and tired and... hot... and filled? He shifted his legs over the berth and he /felt / it, felt the thick something that had been shoved in his valve while he'd been in recharge. It suddenly made sense why he felt so slow and heavy. He should have known by now not to trust his brother after they'd had one of their little 'arguments'. Sunstreaker would resort to whatever he thought fitting to try and make his twin stop being such an idiot, _including_ stealing sedatives from Ratchet's medbay to put him under for a while. Because, really, who in his right mind would prank _Ultra Magnus _and think he would get away with it?!

Most of the time Sunstreaker's punishments were as innefective as Prowl's, but still the golden mech tried. Sideswipe was in the middle of thinking what the slag his twin could have planned for him this time, struggling against the wrist-bounds to test their strength when the door slid open and his brother walked into their room. He barely had time to realize that Sunstreaker had pulled a little something from subspace before he was assaulted by a sudden wave of _pleasure_; the slagger had gotten himself a fragging remote-controlled vibrator! Biting his glossa to stiffen his whimper Sideswipe twisted his helm to look at Sunstreaker, his optics darkening a shade or two at the slowly building desire within his systems. "And I thought _I _was the kinky one. I like this side of you, Sunbeam," he purred, earning himself a dark glare from the golden warrior. The vibrations in his valve were still not enough for him to lose coherency, but they were still driving him insane with his steadily rising charge. And the look on his brother's face promised a world of sinful pleasures...

Sunstreaker ignored him in favor of walking past his brother toward his desk, grabbing the chair by its back and dragging it to the side of the berth. He then proceeded to lift his brother from the berth and, ignoring his protests, sit down on the chair and arrange his brother so he was laying over his lap, his chest-plates resting over his thighs with a golden servo keeping him down, and his aft up in display.

It was an absolutely undignified position, and Sideswipe made sure to let him know just that.

Still, Sunstreaker ignored him. Not like he could push himself away with his arms restrained as they were. He'd end up sprawled on the ground if he did, and Sunstreaker's hand moving over his aft did feel kind of nice. Sunstreaker's lips curled into a smirk as his digits reached his twin's opening, sliding into the tight passage around the vibrator and growling in approval when the its flexible walls rippled and squeezed around his fingers. Sideswipe moaned, his back arching and hips moving to press back into his brother's fingers... before they withdrew, and he found his panel being manually closed again, trapping the still slightly vibrating toy within the slick, hot port. "What the slag, Sunny?" The red mech pouted, venting heavily to cool his overheating frame, and gasping when the vibrations suddenly picked up, sending wave after wave of wonderful pleasure running through his frame. A whimper left the crimson twin's lips, quickly followed by a yelp when his twin's hand suddenly smacked his aft-plating. It didn't necessarily hurt, but it had been... unexpected. And the blow had made him jerk over his brother's lap, which had in turn made the vibrator press against the most sensitive nodes on top of his valve...

...had the slagger planned it all along? Sideswipe wouldn't put it past him; his twin was rather _devious _when he felt like it.

"Are you seriously going to _spank me_, Sunny?" He asked, his voice thick with lust and no small amount of amsusement. "Do you really think this will—ah!" He yelped again and shuddered as another blow landed on his aft, the sting registering as both pain and pleasure making him moan and drop his helm in obvious surrender. He wasn't sure how this was supposed to convince him of keeping from pulling pranks in the future, but Sideswipe knew better than arguing with Sunstreaker when he was in a mood... besides, why _would_ he argue when every sharp slap over his aft kept sending more of those delicious waves of pain/pleasure raking over his frame?

Sideswipe's aft was burning and overly sensitized when his twin decided to give him a short reprieve after a series of sharp, succesive blows landed on his aft, and he gasped when the black digits traced unintelligible patterns over the dark plating. His hips rocked over his twin's lap the best his perilous position allowed, and he let his valve cover slid open in a desperate attempt to entice him to _do something! _

Sunstreaker chuckled huskily, licking his own lips as the scent of his twin's lubricants reached his olfactory sensors, but managed not to act out on his sudden desire to just _take_ him. Instead he let his digits graze over the soaking edges of Sideswipe's valve, pressing the vibrator just slightly deeper into him, before resuming his assault on his brother's aft. A wave of heat spread through Sideswipe's body with each new swat, the sting adding to the wonderful pleasure caused by the little toy's vibrations against every sensitive node within his valve, ripping loud, breathy moans from the red warrior as he was mercilessly pushed towards the edge of release...

...and after he fell, crying out his twin's name as his valve clutched and spasmed around the toy greedily, he heard the sound of Sunstreaker's panel clicking open and felt the vibrator being pulled out of his valve before he was shoved onto the berth and pinned down by a heavy, strong, warm frame. And he realized, after something thicker and hotter pushed into his valve, that he seriously needed to slag off his twin more often, if that meant being on the receiving end of _this_ kind of punishments!


End file.
